ound himself high
up, alone in that darkness, and in charge of the ship. She vibrated
strongly, being almost in ballast, and rolled perhaps three degrees
either way in a leisurely rhythm. Along her sides he could see a sheer
bottle-green glow from fore-foot to where it was lost in the white
cascade churned up by the emerging propeller. Beyond this one could only
catch a sort of rushing obscurity, for the sea was smooth and unbroken
by the long invisible swell. The clouds now covered the whole sky so
that one could see nothing on the forecastle-head.

Mr. Spokesly paced to and fro, watching the faint and occasionally
vanishing light on the escort. He ran over in his mind the ship's
company and ruminated on their various employments. The gunner would be
asleep alongside of his gun; for of what use was it to stand by if one
had no target? The crew were all asleep, save the helmsman and the two
lookouts on the forecastle. The chief was no doubt seated in his cabin
smoking and thinking of his wife and children in Maryport. Mr.
Chippenham, who came on at midnight, was asleep. And there would be
Archy, turned in without a care in the world. Mr. Spokesly's hand came
in contact with the ring in his pocket. He must not forget to stow it
away safely when he went below again. It would look funny if he lost it.
He remembered he owed Archy a ten-pound note. Must pay that in
Alexandria, too. Things might happen in Alexandria, he reflected with
pleasure. There was that talk of the company getting more ships--there
might be something in it. The Old Man was so infernally close-lipped
about everything. Fancy the chief officer of a ship having to get that
sort of news from a steward, just because the captain didn't trust
anybody! He threw his arms up on the dodger and stared into the
darkness. The silence was broken suddenly by the rhythmic clatter of a
shovel-blade against iron--the call of the fireman to the coal-passers
for more coal. They shouldn't make that noise, Mr. Spokesly thought with
a frown. Though, come to that, the screw was making noise enough anyhow.
Every now and again, as the vibrations of the vessel failed to
synchronize, a low muttering rumble came up from the deck members
culminating in hoarse rattles of pipe-guards and loose cowls, and
running aft in a long booming whine. Mr. Spokesly strained his eyes to
catch the pilot light again. Even with the binoculars he could not
distinguish the sloop's hull. One comfort, they